Is ignorance really bliss?

How do you know when to take kids to the doctor?

I ask this, not because I can't tell when my child is sick. I obviously know that my 10 month old is having trouble sleeping and he is not his normal self. And you obviously can't miss the stream of slime that continues to escape those miniature little nostrils every 2 minutes. I also know that Josh and Caleb both have deep sounding coughs, so they're not in tip-top shape either. But is it just a cold? or teething? or allergies?

My dilemma now is the possibility of something worse. A few days ago, my husband was sick... sore throat, achy, fatigued and tired. This morning, all three boys are showing similar symptoms, minus the fatigue. They're all as wild as ever! So it makes me want to get out of the house FAST... but do I risk infecting others as well?

H1M1 (aka Swine Flu) has been going around, so should I be proactive and get them tested and know for sure, and incur medical and prescription bills? Or do I just plead ignorant and let it run it's course, which so far seems to be fairly mild?

Another dilemma is whether or not I'm hallucinating, or if I'm really seeing the little germs spreading all over every surface, like you see on those Lysol commercials. Maybe they're there... maybe they're not! But sometimes it's comforting knowing what those little buggers are! Is it swine flu or not?

Ahhh, decisions! What's a mother to do?

The USPS just aggravated my PMS!

Putting a 10 month-old down for a nap has become a more cumbersome task. Brooks is especially nosy and likes to see what everyone else is doing, so drinking a bottle and settling into slumber is something that has to now be done one-on-one. I carefully planned to get Josh and Caleb occupied eating lunch, so that me and Brooks could disappear upstairs to start our "nap-time routine".

After only 2 oz. of bottle, Caleb crept in and said that someone he didn't know was at the door. I was seriously committed to my goal of getting Brooks to sleep within 10 minutes, so I was not going to allow any deviation from that schedule for just anybody. But this person was persistent. I could hear yelling from the other side of the door. I told Caleb that I couldn't come to the door, so to just ignore it.

A few minutes later, Caleb came up again and said it was the mail. I peeked down the stairs and could see that the main door was now open, but the glass storm door was still shut, and the woman was trying to convince my stunned little 3 year-old to open the door, while jiggling the handle. I wanted to tell Caleb to just shut the door in her face and come upstairs, but he was terrified. He stood there frozen, mumbling barely above a whisper, "I'm not supposed to open the door. My mom can't come downstairs." All the while, I could hear this woman asking loudly, "Is your mom in the bathroom? Where is your mom! Open the door, son!"

That's it! I knew I had to intervene. I immediately turned back to put the baby in the crib, when I heard a loud call from the door. "Hello?" She had opened the door and come inside my house! I stomped down the steps, in my nightshirt... OH, did I forget to mention that I wasn't dressed for the day at 1:00 p.m.? Yes, it was "one of those days." When she saw me, to her credit, she did look a tad embarrassed, but I'm not sure if it was because she realized she just walked in without being asked, or if it was because I wasn't dressed. But her response to my confused state was, "I'm sorry, but your children wouldn't open the door."

"Yes, I know", I tried to say politely, "As you can tell from the crying baby upstairs, I was unable to answer the door, and they are not allowed to open it for strangers."

She continued to ramble, "Well, I could hear them running around inside, so I knew someone was home, so I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt or something... mail persons have been known to save people's lives ya know. That, and I just didn't want you to have to go pick up this certified letter from the post office... I thought I would save you a trip!"

WOW! Did she really think she was doing me a favor by yelling at my kids to open the door, then freak them out by coming inside the house, causing me to have a conversation with a complete stranger while wearing my pajamas, with a screaming baby upstairs, who was supposed to be asleep 5 minutes ago? Really?

Is this what the United States Postal Service is resorting to these days to keep us all satisfied with their service? Are they really that threatened by the nickname "Snail Mail", that they feel it necessary to prove otherwise by breaking and entering just to deliver the mail?

I think they should change their slogan. Instead of "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat of day, nor gloom of night"...

It should read, "Neither lock, nor bolt, nor chain-link fence, nor large watch dog, shall stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

He can be taught!

I came around the corner and saw this!


This is not something that I really wanted Brooks to learn right now, but his two big brothers like to show him the ropes. Is it wrong that I don't want to embrace this new skill?

The perfect tennis shoe?... Only a fantasy!

I know exactly what I need. I know the color, size, style. I can almost envision them in my mind. But I don't think they really exist! I'm talking about the perfect boys' tennis shoe.

Not long ago I went to JC Penny's to use up some gift certificates, and I was in the market for a new pair of shoes for Caleb. I cruised through the kids' isles in search of the perfect shoe. But lo, it is not on the displays, so I ask someone for help. A young male sales associate seems eager to assist, "Can I help you with something, Ma'am?" I started rattling off my requirements. "Size 10, dark colors... navy, black or even gray will do, only velcro closures, no lights of any kind, no comic book characters and it must 'look cool' to my 3 year old." He nodded, looking confident that he could find something to meet my needs, and disappeared to that mysterious back room for several minutes.

Meanwhile, Caleb proceeded to open every shoe box he could reach in search of his idea of the perfect shoe, including the wrong size. Josh was trying to entertain Brooks, but ended up tipping the stroller part way over before hitting his head on a chair. I was sweating through my shirt.

Our sales associate, let's call him Jeff, came back bearing a mountain of shoe boxes. He opened the first box... a white pair of Addidas. I immediately turned it down because of the color, or lack there of, but he insisted that we try it on just to check the fit. I knew it was too narrow, but I tried not to insult the shoe expert and humored him. We continued to try on several dubious choices with no luck. Eventually Jeff was joined by another associate, let's call him Jim. Jeff proceeded to inform Jim of my requirements, although he forgot to mention velcro closures and no lights. For every shoe they brought out, I would take one look and reject it politely. Jeff and Jim started to look as ragged as I was. After about the 18th pair, they asked how committed I was to the velcro. "Do I look like I have time to tie shoes?" I tried to force a little smile. They nodded and closed up the box and headed to the back room.

Unfortunately for Jeff and Jim, I didn't find the perfect pair of shoes at JC Penny's. But fortunately for me (and Josh, Caleb and Brooks), we did find a nice little pair of Sketcher's at Kohl's. But I'm still trying to block out the hour and a half of my life that I'll never get back inside that JC Penny's shoe department!

I need to loosen up!

The other day we were sitting at the table eating a healthy, well-balanced dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches, grapes, carrot sticks and chocolate milk. We were all enjoying interesting conversation of how a rabbit's legs look short, but in reality they are actually pretty long. Everyone was quiet and polite and well-behaved.

Suddenly, Josh inhaled chocolate milk down the wrong tube causing him to explode in an uncontrollable cough, which splattered chocolate milk over the entire table, up onto Caleb's plate, and across Caleb's face and arms. Caleb was frozen, probably in shock, with chocolate dripping from his chin. Josh looked up, desperate to see my reaction. Even Brooks was perfectly still just taking it all in.

I couldn't contain myself any longer! I immediately burst out laughing! Almost on cue, all three boys started laughing too! The more I laughed, the more they laughed! As soon as I would start to calm down, all I had to do was look at Caleb again, covered in chocolatey spit and I would lose it all over again! Things would start to calm down again, and Caleb would say, "Did you see that chocolate on my face?" and we would laugh even harder!

This was truly a fun family experience! But I couldn't help but think of their little faces 1 second after the SPLATTER occurred, and it was tinted with a bit of fear as they awaited my response. This made my heart ache! I didn't think I was that uptight, but their faces said otherwise. I know I have scolded them for playing around at the table, and for making messes on purpose. But this was an accident. Couldn't they tell the difference? I guess not.

Here's a couple of my favorite CHOCOLATE MOMENTS!
Josh - 1st Birthday


Caleb - 1st Birthday

Must-Haves For Mothers of Boys

Although it's only been 7 1/2 years since I became a mother of boys... I have found a few things that make my life a little easier. Here are my favorite "must-haves" that you simply can't live without! (for some reason, I can't get the websites to appear as a link... I'm still working out some kinks... so I apologize for the inconvenience.)

1. Legos - From age 3-100, Legos are a sure way to entertain boys of all ages! And sometimes they even entertain the Mom!
http://shop.lego.com

2. Race tracks - You don't need anything fancy... the most basic of tracks will do the job, because there is something about that sliding, racing motion that keeps them entranced. The key is to find a track that is easy to put together and take apart... and can accomidate everything from match box cars to balls to marbles. Check out the following site for a great one!
http://www.blutrack.com

3. Zip ties - You don't have to spend 20 minutes tying a tie... and there's no uncomfortable clip that digs into their neck and causes constant whining. Just put it around their neck and ZIP! Dressed to impress!
http://www.childrensplace.com
http://www.oneofakindkid.com/ties.html

4. Balls - From baseballs to bouncy balls to footballs to tennis balls... boys can be entertained for hours by balls! Keep an assortment on hand, and they will figure out what to do with them!

5. Anything yucky and sticky... oohey and gooey... disgusting and gross... Boys love it all! But for the "clean freak" in all of us... here are some ideas for some not-so-messy alternatives that will leave them begging for more!
Gak Recipe: Ingredients:
1 cup Elmer's glue
food coloring, your choice of color (optional: coloring can stain!)
1 cup liquid starch

http://www.moonplaysand.com
http://www.hasbro.com/playdoh
http://www.thefind.com/crafts/info-air-hardening-clay

This is just a start... but if you have any more ideas, (I know you do!) then PLEASE let us know. Post them in the comments section for everyone to enjoy and benefit from!

Pooper Scooper... caution this post may be too graphic for some readers...

I glanced out the window today, and I couldn't help but notice this woman walking through our neighborhood. In one hand, she carried 2-3 tied up plastic grocery bags, and sticking out of the back pocket of her slacks was at least 2-3 more empty plastic grocery bags. In her other hand, she kept a firm grip on a leash as she was being dragged (in her high-heeled shoes) down the street by a large, somewhat disobedient dog. Before she got out of sight, I was disgusted as I watched this beast of a dog turn in a familiar circle and hunch its back to relieve himself on the corner of another neighbor's yard (thank goodness). I was then horrified to watch this seemingly classy woman bend over and snatch up the still steaming pile using only her hand and a thin Walmart plastic bag. And if you didn't catch on when I said this was a large dog, I'll have to be more specific... This was a large poop as well! It took several swipes to get it all. And remember the 2-3 tied up bags dangling in her other hand?... and the 2-3 more empty bags in her pocket? Yes, this was a "multiple pooping dog" as well!

I sat there with my mouth open, staring, because it was too horrible to look away... wondering how someone could stoop to the level of picking up the poop of a dog!

I was pulled away from my repugnant trance by he sound of my almost 4 year-old son's voice echoing down the stairs from the bathroom, "Mom, come wipe my bum!" I ran upstairs and did the "duty", and then minutes later realized that my 10 month old was working on a project of his own. Instinctively, I scooped him up and hooked the edge of his diaper with my finger to peek in and check on his progress. I couldn't see anything at first, but I had to be sure, so I reached in a little further to do a quick sweep. In hind sight, this seems like an obvious mistake, but at the time, it seemed perfectly logical! (and I know that some of you have done this on at least one occasion, so don't be too critical!) My next few seconds were spent running to the nearest sink to disinfect myself of what I think was a piece of carrot on the end of my finger!

It was then that I came to a sudden awareness of the similarities between these 2 incidents. Do you see where I'm going with this? Wasn't I doing the exact same thing as the high-heeled woman walking her dog? Had I become so numb that I was barely phased by the possible consequences of plummeting my finger into a child's diaper without even the protection of a plastic bag?

I stood in the bathroom, still scrubbing my hands, and tried to justify my actions... and debated with myself...I'm taking care of a human, not a dog, so it makes perfect sense to clean up after a human... But some people love their dogs, and therefore treat them as children... I guess, If you love someone so much, you are even willing to pick up their poop with your almost bare hands, and plunge your finger into a diaper that is almost certainly filled with poop!

So, I'm proud to say that I'm embarrassed to admit that one of the roles as a mother of young children is "Glorified Pooper Scooper!" But maybe I can maintain a little more dignity if I do it while wearing heels!

Waking up 5 times in one night? Really?

It's as if they can sense how tired we are. Like they are trying to torture us, or get us back somehow. That's how I feel when my babies wake up during the night after they are truly capable of sleeping through it! Although I am partly to blame... I allowed myself to have a little fun yesterday and chose to forego the afternoon nap (of my 9 month old, not mine... although that was detrimental as well!) But I was trying to be flexible... to show that this baby has to roll with the punches in this family and do what we do. "Oh, you want a nap? Sorry, we're having a play date, you'll have to tough it out!"

Consequence of my actions: an over-tired baby... and an over-tired mamma.

Lesson learned: We must not leave the house between the hours of 9-11 a.m. and 2-4 p.m. (sigh.)

I declare today "NO SHOWER DAY!"

Today is just one of those days. Blunder #1: I awoke to the sound of my 9 month-old singing in the baby monitor, and rolled out of bed after only 5 hours of sleep. Blunder #2: I looked at my "To Do List" at 8:30 am, and realized that I was already behind schedule, so some items would have to go! Blunder #3: Unfortunately for me, (and for everyone else), the item I chose to delete was my shower.

As a result of aforesaid blunders, other important and often crucial items began falling from the list as well. Brush hair? delete. Make-up? delete. Put on bra? delete. Seriously, what's the point?

Once days like this are declared "No Shower Days", there's even more reason to just stay home, so the announcement is often made to the entire household so there are no misunderstandings/misconceptions/miscommunications. On some occasions, the boys even join me in this declaration and we all enjoy our jammies together, therefore sanctioning such behavior as a monumental day... a family holiday, if you will. On days such as this, it is perfectly acceptable to watch cartoons until noon, play inside all day, take naps and talk on the phone!

The only glitch in this plan is the arrival of my husband when he sees my hair pulled in clips every which way and realizes that it was "one of those days"! He knows that to his demise, a steaming, hot meal was only a fantasy.

If only he knew what went on here! Along with a little laziness, another activity that is also permitted is CLEANING because you can get dirty and sweat without messing up your hair or make-up. In fact, it is on days such as this, where initially there was no drive to accomplish much of anything, that I often surprise myself and get more done then I would have if I would have simply taken a shower!

So rather then returning home disheartened, he should welcome "No Shower Days" with open arms and take note of that perfectly organized closet, or the fact that every single kitchen cupboard was wiped down and disinfected. As for me, I should add making dinner to my To-Do List!

I obviously need some help!

When Brooks was about 6 months old, running errands with 3 kids actually got a little easier. I even started to feel confident that I could go to more then one place before I would lose my sanity. It was on a good day such as this that we had to run into Ben Franklin crafts, and then hit the grocery store, all in one trip. I picked up a few "must-have" items at the craft store, and was walking next door to Ukrop's with a diaper bag over one shoulder, the baby seat hooked on one arm and 2 young sons trailing behind. Things were going so smoothly that there might as well have been happy music playing in the background, and cute little birds perching on our shoulders.

Then I hear a voice behind me. "Ma'am... Ma'am... you dropped this."

I turned around and saw a man holding out a burp cloth. I took it graciously, and he asked if these were ALL my children. I was stunned for a second and started counting to myself, "1-2-3... it's not THAT many, is it?"

The next words that were uttered, literally stopped me in my flip flops... "Wow, you obviously need some help... if you need any help in there, just let me know." (cue background music that screeches to silence, followed by crickets chirping.)

Is it possible that I looked more out of control then I felt? Is it possible that I needed all the help I could get as I casually walked from one store to the other with 3 children? Not 10 children... just 3! Sure, I had dark circles under my eyes, my clothes were a bit wrinkled and I probably had baby spit-up on one shoulder. But everyone was happy and content, and I guarantee that the first-time mom around the corner looked just as ragged as me. Whether you have 1 kid or 12... being a mom is tough. So, did I deserve any more special treatment?

Ever since this little "incident", I have noticed that almost everywhere I go, someone stops me to remark on the number of children I have. "Wow! You sure have your hands full, don't you?" ... "Three boys, eh?" ... "My, you're outnumbered!"

Now it's confession time... I have been guilty of giving a second or third look when I saw a woman in Target that was literally crawling with 8 children under the age of 10. They were all very well-behaved and were no more then 3 feet from her side at any given time, but the shear numbers made her very interesting to watch. But seriously, is 3 children the new 8? I didn't think so. But if that's the case, then I REALLY deserve a break!